" Shocking," said one of a pair of fashionable young ladies seated upon a bench. She lifted her newspaper closer to her nose, scanning the print by the waning light. The spectacular loss of the Monfield gemsones was included in all five evening editions of the London papers. "Indeed," agreed the other, smoothing the pleats of her petticoat. "They didn't even mention the bracelet. And it is particularly fine." The first woman lowered her paper. "You know that wasn't what I meant, Rue." "Wasn't it? Oh. I suppose then you were referring to the midnight duel in which the valiant duke fought off the thief before being overcome by the fellow's kick to his nether regions. That rather shocking, I concur. I can't imagine how anyone could reach past that royal belly for a good kick." "Rue," said the other woman, but her gray eyes were narrowed with mirth. "Plus, it was after midnight. My legs were beginning to cramp in that miniscule closet." "Rue." "Yes?" "A lady does not gloat." -Mim & Rue "